Jimmy Chim

Author: Jimmy Chim

  • A Simple 3-Minute Workout

    A challenge I have during weekdays is finding time to exercise. I used to have a gym membership before covid, but even then I didn’t go consistently. I preferred to do group classes, so I had to look up class schedules, make plans around it, get changed, pack my gym bag, and drive to the gym. There were too many steps involved.

    What I Learned About Myself

    Now working from home, it’s easy to find myself sitting in front of the computer all day. Before long, it’s the end of the day. When the sun is down, my body doesn’t feel like exercising. It’s dark and there isn’t much I can do outdoor. I’m tired from working all day, and I need to prepare dinner prep.

    As I observe myself, I reached the following conclusions.

    • If the exercise involves too many steps, I won’t do it.
    • It’s highly unlikely for me to work out after work at night.
    • I know a short exercise routine is better than nothing.
    • I need to do it in the morning before work, and make it ridiculously easy to start.

    My 3-minute Workout

    With the above in mind, I designed a simple 3-minute workout that I will do first thing in the morning.

    Now I wake up, get a glass of water, and do the following in my room.

    1. Push-ups: I plant my fingers strong, tuck my elbows in, and try to maintain a perfect plank the whole time.
    2. Squads: I keep my arms extended with a wide stance, bend my knees to 90 degrees, and return to the original position.
    3. Standing Crunches: I first interlock my fingers behind my head. I raise my left knee, rotate my upper body to the left, and touch my left knee with my right elbow. Repeat on the other side with right knee and left elbow.
    4. Jabs: I take an athletic stance and do punches. Alternate left and right.
    5. Kicks: I take an athletic stance, raise one leg at a time, and kick at waist level. Alternate left and right.

    When I did this routine for the first time, I started with doing only five of each of that above. It was absurdly easy that it took less than minute, but that is the point. The hardest thing is to start, so lowering the barrier to start is key. I do the same number on each so there is less number to keep track of.

    After the workout, I log the number in my daily habit tracker and enjoy a short burst of triumph.

    I set two rules for myself. First, I do this workout first thing in the morning. Second, I do at least as many as the previous day. That means I have the option to add (only) one each day. For example, I did 24 of each yesterday and the day before. This morning I felt ready to do my 25th push-ups, so I added one.

    I do it in my pajamas. I know some people suggest sleeping in workout clothes to make it easier to work out the next day, but I am not quite ready to do that yet. My pajamas are too comfortable to sleep in. Plus, it’s one less thing I need to do!

    What You Can Try

    If you are looking to add a bit of exercise in your life, design something absurdly easy that you can’t say no to. The key is consistency, and build on it as time goes. Don’t make it too hard at the beginning, or scale up too much too quickly. When you burn out, you stop doing it. That’s the worst outcome.

    You don’t need fancy equipment or gym membership. It costs nothing, requires no planning, and doesn’t need you to go anywhere. The possibilities are endless. Go for a 5-minute run or a 10-minute walk. Build your own routines like mine, and substitute with what you prefer. Regular push-ups may be hard, so feel free to use your knees for support. Or do give push-ups, do something else, and do another five. Mix it up, and play with it.

    Once you figure out a routine that works for you, try to stick to it, but keep an open mind: you can always change things around. The choice is yours.

  • Break the Cycle of Career Comparison

    Someday a couple of years ago, I went on to LinkedIn to do some research. A few college schoolmates’ profiles popped up. It looked like some of them became management at exciting companies, started their own ventures, or otherwise seemed to be something exciting.

    “Good for them.” I said silently.

    I wished all I felt was happiness for them. Instead, a familiar sense of discouragement dawned on me.

    “Why did these people seem to have accomplished so much? In contrast, what have I been doing all these years?”

    Hooked, I looked up more profiles in my network. The endless stream of information suggested by LinkedIn was irresistible. I went through more than 300 people’s profiles, even people with whom I had no connection.

    The urge to keep browsing was strong. The mindless clicking continued. Was I looking for a model to follow, a path to move forward, or reassurance that I did not screw up my life choices?

    An hour and half later, I felt more lost than ever before.

    The Comparison Cycle

    If I break down what happened that day, here is the cycle that repeated 300 times.

    1. Look at other people’s achievements

    2. Compare myself against those achievements

    3. Conclude that I am inadequate, i.e., I did not do enough, or I made wrong choices

    4. Develop a sense of despair, loss, and disappointment

    5. Ironically, go back to step 1 again and repeat the cycle of misery

    I imagine you might have had a similar experience. You are on a social media platform, at a dinner party or watching a video. Suddenly out of nowhere, you are triggered to compare career achievement with irrelevant people in your life.

    Someone always seems to have it better. We see others doing meaningful work in a promising industry with higher pay and a better lifestyle. When the glamor is plain in sight, it is hard to ignore.

    We all, to some extent, compare. Our brain is hardwired to make sense of where we stand relative to others in the social hierarchy. Successful people are not immune to this, either. It is funny to imagine this: A clerk compares to a manager. A manager compares to an executive. An executive compares to a millionaire. A millionaire compares to a billionaire. A billionaire compares to the 0.001%. The 0.001% compares to a monk who has nothing but leads a simple, joyful life.

    Comparison does not stop with more achievement.

    Inspiration vs. Comparison

    It is important to draw a distinction between inspiration and comparison, as they may look similar at first glance.

    If an NBA rookie looks at the best player in basketball history and feels motivated to practice a thousand free throws a day, that is inspiration. The rookie turns an observation of a model into energy to become better. He recognizes his weakness and takes specific actions to improve. He takes the first step — practicing free throws — to create his own path.

    Inspiration gives us traction and momentum. It brings focus and clarity.

    Comparison, in contract, saps our precious energy. It reduces our sense of worth, fogs our vision, and stalls our growth. It does not guide us to better understand our own purpose and values. It robs the time we can otherwise use to take steps to build our own lives. If you feel beaten, scattered, or lethargic when observing others, you are comparing.

    Comparison distracts and burdens us. It brings confusion and misery.

    What to do?

    The good news is we have the power of choice. We can break comparison with nothing more than what we already have. Here are three practices have helped me tremendously in my own journey. I hope you will find them helpful.

    Notice that you are comparing.

    I learned this from my meditation practice. When we notice, it’s like we pop out of the bubble and say “Ah, I see what I am doing here.” This awareness creates a space between us and the thought. That allows us to see the thought with clarity.

    The key is to simply notice the beginning of the comparison cycle. The practice is to observe thoughts as they happen without judgment.

    It is tempting to analyze the thought, but there is no need to do so. There will be a time for that later if you wish. One tool I use when I ruminate on a thought is to say “Ah, yes, but not now.”

    This step sounds incredibly simple, but it can be hard to remember. It is so easy to get caught up in thoughts. Yet, building the muscle of awareness is critical. Only with the knowledge of what we are doing in the moment can we start to take better steps.

    If it helps, write down the observation on a piece of paper. With practice, it does get easier.

    Recognize that you are on your own unique journey.

    Imagine you are on a fully occupied flight from New York to London. Some of your fellow passengers live in New York, while others are on a connecting flight from elsewhere. When the plane arrives in London, some cheerfully begin their family vacation. Others go into a high-stake business meeting. Yet, some confront the reality of a sick family member at home.

    While your flight passes through the same airports, no one on the plane truly shares the same origin and destination. The group converges, shares the same space for a few hours, and moves on with their respective life journey.

    The people we compare to are the passengers on that plane. They have no understanding of where we came from, what we have been through, or where we are going. Most of them will have no bearing in our lives, whatsoever. Isn’t it silly to compare ourselves with them?

    Remember this: We are on our own unique journey. We have our own path.

    This idea is incredibly freeing, and I go back to it in time again and again. The power lies in the freedom that I don’t need to adhere to a route walked by others. I can accept where I am today, regardless of where I came from. I have the choice to craft my own path.

    Even if you don’t know yet which direction you should head towards, don’t worry. The first step in the right direction is to recognize you are on your own path. If you accept this, you have already taken the hardest first step.

    Next time when we meet someone who has achieved much in life, celebrate and be happy for them. Then say “Fantastic — they are on their own path. Now let’s focus on mine.”

    Write down three things you are grateful for.

    When you focus on what you lack, you lose what you have.
    When you focus on what you have, you get what you lack.
    — Effortless, Greg McKeown

    Gratitude is an underrated and underutilized practice in the modern day, yet it is free and highly effective in grounding us. It reminds us of our many blessings. It transforms a mindset of scarcity to one of abundance. It gives us a new perspective.

    There is so much to be thankful for. Here are a few easy categories if you have a hard time recalling:

    · Material comfort: Food on the table, blanket that keeps us warm, and technology that makes our life easier (imagine your washing machine is broken!)

    · Nature: Chirping birds, fluffy clouds, and a beautiful sky. Rain, sunshine, and clean air.

    · People: Those we care about, and those who care for us. Think family members, friends, neighbors who have been kind, friendly and helpful.

    · Experiences: Work experiences that stretched our brain, travel experiences that made us wonder, life experiences that helped us grow.

    · Health: Our heart that keeps our blood flowing, our lung that supplies us with oxygen, our legs that allow us to walk, and our arms that allow us to be work.

    · Mind: Most importantly, the beautiful mind that allows us think, create, and choose. No one can take that away from you.

    Write down three things you are most grateful for today. This takes thirty seconds but can be the most productive thing you can do.

    Today I am grateful for the opportunity to be creative, build my writing habits, and share with you the words you are reading now.

  • The Joy of Connecting with Friends

    Last week a group of us traveled to visit June, a close friend of mine who recently settled in Austin. We used to live together after college for a few years before we went separate way. Despite the physical distance, we managed to stay in touch in each other’s life.

    I was really looking to this trip to take a peek at June’s new life. Also, this was my first time flying after a year and a half of pandemic life.

    When we arrived in the suburb of Austin, June, her husband and Bailey, their new poodle warmly welcome us. We exchanged hugs. Everyone had a big smile on their face. There was so much happiness simply to reconnect with each other after a while.

    The next few days was a flurry of activities in a short burst. We cooked and shared meals. We biked and explored the city. We took a boat tour. We tried new restaurants. We went to an escape room and solved mysteries. We talked and played board games. We cuddled and played with the family dog. It was a great time.

    As I look back at the whirlwind of events, a few things struck me:

    · I am thankful for the closest friends in my life: June kindly hosted all of us and set up the space for our comfortable stay. She planned the itinerary, made reservations and even cooked a world-class coq au vin dish. At this stage of my life, I have come to appreciate how precious it is to have such a friend who would go out of the way to show her love.

    · There is immense joy simply in each other’s company: Sometimes we try very hard to pursue happiness in our lives, when happiness is simply be in the presence of the people we care about. We had a great time because we were engaged with each other. Being truly present with each other speaks to how we care for each other, and that is the best gift we can give to the people that matter the most.

    · The effort to stay connected is worthwhile: As we get older, our lives become more complicated. Schedules are harder to coordinate. Obligations grow. Kids and aging parents enter the picture. Amid all these, however, it is even more important for us to make the effort to dedicate time for each other. It requires planning and commitment, but the deep joy of staying connected is far more rewarding.

    Thank you again, June, for your hospitality!

  • Why My Dog Had a Credit Card

    The first month after we brought Xing home

    My dad decided to replace me a few months before I left for America.

    When he came across an online listing for someone to adopt a 2-year-old white Pekingese, we drove to a sleepy part of my hometown to check it out.

    We rang the doorbell and walked into the owner’s apartment. After a brief eye contact with us, the dog started racing in a zigzag pattern across the tiny living room—no more than 200 square feet and not uncommon in Macau—as if he had never seen a visitor in his life.

    He kept accelerating. He soon started panting loudly. He stuck his tongue out.

    The owner told us that the dog was a gift from his sister to keep him company. He was in a wheelchair most of the time and had difficulty leaving the house.

    “It would be best if someone else could walk him more often.”

    After we saw him for the first time…

    We convened a family meeting at home.

    My mom resisted the idea of a pet. She didn’t want more responsibilities around the house. “Who is going to pick up its poop?” she asked.

    My dad was adamant and decided to go ahead.

    “One day, I am going to snap my finger, and he will jump up to a chair so you can see him on video over Skype,” he told me after he brought Xing home.

    That prediction came nowhere close. He didn’t know that Pekingese is one of the least obedient breeds.

    For the next 14 years…

    I couldn’t remember a conversation with my parents without us mentioning Xing (“star” in Cantonese).

    How he got stung by a bee the other day. How he swallowed the toothpaste cap and threw up three days in a row. How he stepped on a cockroach with his paw.

    I visited home every two or three years. Every time when I arrived, Xing approached me as if I had never left.

    Xing loved the park near our house. He would forget about my parents when he was there. It didn’t matter how loud my parents barked; Xing remained poised and wandered in whatever direction he pleased, wholly absorbed in his world. Honestly, it wasn’t clear who owned who.

    Never say no to treats, never.

    One day I was applying for a credit card online…

    Halfway through the credit card application, an offer popped up. I could get extra points for every user added to the account, for free, and for up to a maximum of three family members. No identity validation was required.

    I put my dad’s name in the first field.

    I put my mom’s name in the second field.

    In the third field, I typed: X. I. N. G.

    Then I hesitated.

    “Should I give him a last name? I can’t just put the first name, right? It must be a full name… Xing Chim, it is.”

    An engraved credit card bearing that name came in the mail three weeks later. My wife (then girlfriend) couldn’t stop laughing about it.

    My parents still go to Xing’s favorite park…

    My dad and mom usually take a daily stroll after dinner. Xing practically lives in the park now. In 2020, my parents planted his cremated remains in (allegedly) his favorite banyan tree, with a pleasant view of a reservoir.

    They still talk about him every day. How he hated the vacuum cleaner and fireworks. How he got a little drunk once after sipping some beer (Yes, we had him try a little.) How he dared to pick fights with the bigger dogs in that same park.

    He also loved 100-dollar bills.

    Rich guy.

  • On One Year of Meditation (2021)

    Over the years, I experimented with meditation a few times, but the practice never quite stuck for more than a few days. Once in a while, an article or a podcast on meditation would catch my attention, but for the most part, meditation seemed like something “nice to do” when you have some extra time. But let’s be honest, who has extra time these days?

    At least that was how I felt about meditation until COVID hit last year.

    I considered myself very fortunate to continue to have work. My family was healthy. Still, the transition to this new reality, for me as for most people, was a challenge.

    I missed seeing my friends, going to restaurants, and doing normal stuff without giving it a second thought. As my work became fully remote, I lost discipline at home. Days went by where I didn’t leave the house. My eating schedule felt off track. My sleep quality suffered. My irritability was off-putting to those around me.

    That was when I picked up meditation again.

    Since April 2020, meditation has become a daily routine. I decided to stick to it not only because it has helped with my focus and mood, but also because I know that the practice will help me grow.

    My practice is quite ordinary. I sit in a chair for ten minutes. Sometimes I follow a guided meditation. Other times I go without. I mostly keep my eyes closed.

    What I Learned

    On the first anniversary of my meditation journey, I would like to share a few things I learned from the process.

    1. Meditation taught me how to observe my thoughts.

    Every day when I sit, without fail, a litany of things come to mind, such as:

    • Practical things: Places to be, projects to work on, or maintenance tasks to avoid (e.g. clutter in the house);
    • Emotional things: Excitement for a new opportunity, anxiety about a work challenge, or disappointment when my expectations are not met;
    • Living in the past or the future: Self-criticism of some dumb things I did, judgment for things I didn’t do, or aspirations for the future.

    Meditation practice teaches me to observe thoughts like clouds in the sky or cars on the street. There is no need to hold on to a particular thought, just as I don’t have to jump into every car that passes by on the highway. I can notice a thought with a sense of curiosity and accept its existence, without a need to change it.

    The idea of observing thoughts without the need to react has been such a helpful insight, especially because my mind always goes haywire.

    2. Popping out the “thinking bubble” creates space for clarity.

    When lots of emotions swirl in my brain, it sometimes feels like I am in a bubble, where the center is a vortex that powerfully pulls at my attention, leaving no space for anything else.

    You might have had a similar experience before — a tiny, inconsequential event becomes all-consuming and derails an entire day. It’s easy to get worked up by a mean comment from a friend, unfair treatment from a colleague, or a thoughtless driver making a dangerous maneuver on the road. Have you asked questions like, “How can this happen?” or, “How is this fair?” or, “How can he be so inconsiderate?” countless times on the same day before?

    I certainly have.

    One guided meditation I did recently likens the moment of noticing our thoughts as popping out of the thinking bubble. The fascinating thing is that the moment we notice we are thinking, we jump outside of the thought to make that observation.

    In that instance, there is a divide between the thought or emotion and us. A space is created where we can see what is going in our mind with a bit of distance and clarity. When that happens, I often laugh at myself and say, “Here I am again, getting sucked into the same narrative I have told myself a thousand times before.”

    Popping some of these bubbles has been pretty fun for me.

    3. When I reach greater clarity, I have a choice to react or not.

    The biggest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another. -William James (an American philosopher and psychologist)

    One luxury I indulge in every day is my morning shower. When the water hits my body, a sense of renewal arises. My favorite sensation is getting out of the shower with a clear mind. I’m reminded of a new day ahead of me. No matter what happened the previous day, I can choose to be a better person today.

    Similarly, when I observe my thoughts with a sense of clarity, I have options. I can react to the thought, or acknowledge the thought and softly let it go.

    This means I have a choice. And no one can take that choice from me. Isn’t that beautifully empowering?

    If I don’t want be tied up in strong emotions like fear, anxiety, or anger, I don’t have to be. If I want to get out of the quicksand of self-judgment, self-pity, or pain, I can choose to take a step away from it.

    Having a choice is liberating. We get to exercise our free will. I do something because I choose to, not because something pulled me into it.

    My biggest challenge is accepting the existence of a thought but not to react to it. When there is a strong emotion, my brain tends to search for a solution and wants to fix the “issue” right away. This is where breathing comes into play as a critical tool.

    4. The breath is a home always available to me.

    If you had asked me a couple of years ago how often I noticed my breathing, I would probably say, “Almost never, and that is a weird question.”

    A high school biology lesson may illustrate how every breath involves dozens of body parts moving synchronously. The diaphragm expands and contracts, rises and falls. Air passes through our nostrils and trachea. Oxygen enters into the bloodstream, generating energy, which gives us life.

    Mechanics aside, breathing is a miracle that happens every few seconds. We we take it for granted, barely noticing it.

    In most meditation practices, there is an emphasis on the breath. Sometimes it’s referred to as a home base, a familiar place where we can feel safe, secure, and welcome.

    When I get distracted by a thought or an emotion, I try to use the breath as a tool to refocus on the meditation. If I manage to pop out of the bubble and choose to let go of certain thoughts, conscious breathing serves as a guide home. When I breathe slowly, I relax.

    And guess what? The breath is free and always available to all of us when we need it.

    5. I can always start again.

    The other day I was overwhelmed by sadness and pain. It was a difficult day that came with lots of emotions. My heart resisted the idea of sitting down. My breath was short, my mind scattered, and my heart heavy. Five minutes into the meditation, I opened my eyes and told myself I couldn’t sit anymore.

    It felt like my meditation had failed.

    Somehow in that moment, a soft voice reminded me that I had the ability to choose. Leaving the chair was an option, but so was re-starting.

    I chose to close my eyes again.

    The second half of the meditation was no easier. The cycle of getting pulled by the emotions and re-focusing on the breath repeated itself dozens of times. In the end, I was still distraught by the events of the day.

    But afterward, I did feel a little better, partly because of the breathing, but mostly because I decided to stick to the end of the practice. I restarted the practice even though my mind hated the idea. I was proud of myself because I became 0.01% stronger by choosing what was difficult.

    Meditation is a space where I can start and restart with no questions asked and no judgement from others. The only person who can stop me: yours truly.

    I am an absolute beginner when it comes to meditation. (In fact, it may be better to stay that way, according to Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind.) Meditation takes effort, but the reward has been immense.

    I am keeping an open mind as to where it takes me in the upcoming year.

  • Reflecting on Death

    Bonnie, a friend of mine, recently passed away.

    Her funeral mass was held yesterday at the Oakland Cathedral. It was a beautiful memorial, with wonderful music played by more than a hundred musicians from the Oakland Symphony and a local children’s choir. Hundreds gathered to mourn, but also celebrated a wonderful life that left behind a legacy of service to the community. There were laughers, tears, and a whole spectrum of emotions in between.

    I came to know Bonnie, and her husband Jim, through a small group at my local church in Berkeley. She was a charming, well-spoken lady who had an insightful perspective on life, service, and God. I remember a lively conversation we had at a potluck last September when she shared her experience as a life/career coach and found deep meaning in the work of helping others. Bonnie also spoke about her recent transition into semi-retirement with Jim, and how she was looking forward to dedicating more time to doing things she loved, including spending time with family and getting more involved in music. It was hard to believe, then, that such an energetic person’s life could end so abruptly in a matter of months, especially as she was just ready for the next stage in life.

    A month or so later, Bonnie had an incident that took her to the hospital, and was unfortunately diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer by surprise. Shortly after, she stopped coming to Sunday mass, and Jim looked increasingly weary with his wife’s condition quickly deteriorating. Youali and I visited their house late last year when Bonnie was spending the majority of her time resting in bed. Though exhausted, she was delighted to see us, with a warm smile on her face. It was wonderful to see that she was surrounded by so many friends and family, but at the same time heart-breaking to know that her time on earth was going to be very limited.

    Bonnie passed away on November 20, 2019, only two short months after the initial diagnosis. Jim managed to attend our weekly group meeting a few times since then. He shared the pain of seeing his most loved person fade away in her physical body, and he missed having conversations with her about everything in the world. As their stories were recounted, Jim couldn’t hold his tears. There was no doubt that he truly loved her with all his heart, and her death was such a tragic loss.

    I have not experienced too many deaths in my life but reflecting on Bonnie’s death at the memorial really put things in perspective for me.

    • Life is so short. We don’t know what will happen next month or even tomorrow. It’s so easy to get caught up in the daily hustle and bustle, and trivial things that don’t matter. I need to remember this the next time I get frustrated about the little things at work or minor annoyances in life. Would I have cared about these small things if there is only two more months left in my life? What would I be doing instead?
    • At the end of the day, what matters is the impact we have on others. It’s not about how much money we made, how big our house is, or how much stuff we accumulated. None of these matters in the end. The more meaningful questions are: How have we changed the people around us in a positive way? Where were we when people needed physical or emotional support from us?
    • There is so much beauty around us, even with death. I saw the incredible beauty of a lifelong commitment in Jim and Bonnie’s marriage. It was heartwarming to listen to all the stories about Bonnie’s younger days, and how she managed to create moments of connection with so many souls along the way. She encouraged others to grow, and be a better version of themselves. While death is often associated with pain and suffering, Bonnie’s stories were made even more alive after her death. There is so much beauty in that.